


coming out of my cage (and i'm definitely bi)

by mareofthesky



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: But we love him for it, Gratuitous Swearing, Jason is having a sexuality crisis, M/M, Neil being clueless as per usual, Other, POV Original Character, POV Outsider, his crisis is one Neil Josten, lots of pining and ridiculous description, of course a track kid would be obsessed with Neil like cmon, some guys being jerks and saying offensive things about Neil, sorry I think I have been desensitized to swear words, ummm how does one tag I've never done this before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mareofthesky/pseuds/mareofthesky
Summary: Jason from Track has been struggling with his sexuality for years now, though he didn't realize it. Enter one Neil Josten. Maybe there isn't anything left to figure out.Aka a story from an outsider POV on the exy team, Neil, and his relationship with Andrew. Lots of pining, over-used tropes of characters running into each other everywhere, and maybe some heart-warming displays of friendship. (It's heartwarming when friends bond by verbally eviscerating jerks, right?)
Relationships: Neil Josten & Original Character(s), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 30
Kudos: 271





	coming out of my cage (and i'm definitely bi)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this has been in my notes for forever and in my brain for even longer. I feel like there is not nearly enough outsider perspective on the foxes, and so this was born. How do people write fics, forreal. This is my first attempt at fic-writing (other than a couple of paragraphs from middle school that are abandoned in a word document somewhere). Plz accept this meager offering, as I cannot look at it any longer. And if you wish to bond over aftg, plz do come yell at me over at tumblr where I am also mareofthesky. I am way too personally involved in aftg at this point, and need the validation of others who share my pain.

Fucking fuck. Jason is having a sexuality crisis. Needless to say, this crisis has been ongoing, an uphill battle for months (years?) now. Casually noticing the aesthetic attractiveness of a guy? Check. Getting mixed up with one of his friends on a night of drunken revelry? Check. Not being able to stop thinking about that night, those kisses and those touches, without playing the moments on repeat? Check, check. Getting unnecessarily horny late at night over his same sex fantasies? Goddammit, check. Applying these new revelations to the world around him, recognizing that, yes, he can be attracted to men as well as women, maybe even moreso? Check. Realizing he has a type, and suddenly having the embodiment of that, the most beautiful man he’s laid eyes on, apparate before him? Shit, fucking fuck.

Neil fucking Josten is suddenly the loudest thing in Jason’s mind, and his brain is waxing pathetically poetic thoughts. Every neuron is screaming crystal blue eyes, autumn fire hair, stark white, shattered ice scars, molten rock muscles and tendons, gliding over solid steel bones. He can see the sweat sheening, dripping in rivulets down the faults of his collarbone, his biceps. Jason is at the precipice of his sexuality crisis. The solution is obvious. How could he ever doubt his capacity to be fully attracted to a man?  _ Fuck _ , he is so bisexual. One glimpse of the gorgeous redheaded striker bolting across the field, and he was never so certain of any fact in his life. He watches as Neil weaves like a perfectly threaded needle through the tangle of players on the court. His legs move quickly, effortlessly, feet carving patterns like the steps to an intricate dance. The hard lines of his frame meet the soft lines of his movement in perfect juxtaposition. Beauty clashes with merciless focus and skill. Josten confidently leaps forward, shouldering past the backliners and flinging the ball in one seamless motion. The goal blossoms crimson, and the buzzer sounds. Josten throws down his racquet and tosses his head back, a smile crinkling his face with sheer, radiant joy. Jason is transfixed by the motion, he stares slack-jawed.

“ _ Fuck _ , am I bi” he mutters to himself. His best friend from the track team cocks her head to the side and lets out a laugh.

“Dude, I know right? Half the team is stunning. How do they pull that off, different recruiting standards? Clearly not the same as ours,” she grimaces, angling her chin to the gangly group of cross country boys lounging a couple rows down.

Jason laughs as well. “God, why are dumb guys slinging a ball around so attractive?” he laments.

Carla smirks, “dumb jocks and their stupid muscles and their obnoxious faces. Honestly, despicable. How dare they run around like that.” She wrinkles her nose in mock-disgust and stares down the replays flashing across the big-screen. “Man, are they hot,” she sighs.

————

The only problem was, Neil Josten is clearly not dumb. Jason is startled to realize he shares three of his four classes with Josten.  _ Three _ . How could he have not noticed before? Actually, he knows why. Notably, because Josten always sticks to the back of the room, slinking in through side doors and bolting off before anyone can gather their things. He also has a different air about him than on the court. Reserved, at first glance, almost unnoticeable. Until you do notice. And you can’t look away. Jason discovers this during his 8am lecture when he accidentally sleeps in for the first time. He slides into his advanced physics class fifteen minutes late, and falters. He catches a flash of sharp, blue eyes darting away fast. It takes half a second to realize that flash is  _ Neil Josten  _ clad in a worn white t-shirt and slightly torn jeans. He looks unassuming at the back of the lecture hall, knee bobbing up and down slightly, gaze fixed forward like he wasn’t just staring into Jason’s soul. Jason’s pulse slowly picks up as he realizes one of the last empty seats is next to Josten himself.

“Fuck,” Jason whispers as he does a quick scan of the room. The only other free seats are in the first couple rows, all the way in the middle. He’s not about to be the most disruptive asshole ever and climb over a row of students in front of the whole class. So, directly next to Josten it is. Jason skirts up the side aisle and slides past two students to secure his spot next to Neil. He scrabbles through his backpack for a notebook and pencil, opening up to the next free page and scratching in the date. He lets his gaze slide over to note strong, but delicate hands littered in silver scars. One is doing a complicated pencil twirl over graceful fingers. Jason quickly diverts his eyes and takes in a deep, quiet breath. It’s an endless lecture, and though his mind converts spoken word to written letters there’s no comprehension beyond,  _ fucking blue eyes _ .

————

This is about when Jason starts noticing Neil Josten _ everywhere _ . Turns out, their campus is actually relatively small. Especially when you dine in the same athletes caf, have similar schedules due to sport/ class balance, and apparently both run?? At the same time? Now that the new semester is in swing?? The first couple weeks, Jason had been able to push his morning runs off until 6:00. After having to switch his multivariable calculus lecture to the ungodly hour of 7am, though, he decided to move them up to 5:00. Life is hard when you’re an athlete trying to maintain a regular sleep/wake cycle. 

So, he finds himself up before even the sun rises, jetting off through streetlamp-brightened streets. It’s actually kind of peaceful, seeing the campus so quiet and still. He takes a deep breath of the still-cool morning air and smiles. Maybe the early risers have it all figured out. They have this time to be with themselves and their thoughts, shutting out the rest of the sleeping world. Jason takes another deep breath, letting his eyes droop closed for a moment as his legs cut effortlessly forwards. He opens his eyes again just in time to see a figure cut in front of him, turning the corner from the street to his left. The presence of another being is so unexpected, Jason let’s out a startled yelp and his strides stutter to a halt. The other figure seems surprised as well, if the sudden tension and absolute stillness is a sign. They come up short, all of a sudden, and almost glare at Jason. As if  _ he _ was the one who wasn’t supposed to be out running at 5am. Then, he finally sees the face half-shrouded in the shadow of a hoodie. It’s Neil  _ fucking _ Josten. His lips are pressed flat, his ice cold gaze directed pointedly at Jason. Who is now gaping blatantly, shit.

“Hey, sorry man...” he quickly apologizes, then plows on. “You spooked me, didn’t expect to see anyone out here this early, was kinda zoning out... enjoying my run...” he trails off lamely.

Josten takes down his hood, revealing a tangle of sweat-damp, messy auburn hair. He levels a stare at Jason, who feels a swoop in his stomach at having the full focus of those autumn frost eyes. Then, his lips quirk into an almost-smile, “ _ I  _ scared  _ you _ ?” he questions incredulously, smile and eyes finally thawing. “ _ You _ scared the shit out of  _ me _ . I’ve been running this time, this route, for a whole semester and have never once seen another soul,” he laughs. “Guess I got too complacent, didn’t even hear you at all.”

“I’ve been told I have a smooth stride,” Jason mumbles offhandedly. Neil’s eyes crinkle as he laughs lightly, angling his body back in the direction he had been heading. Jason finds his voice, himself, once again, “I’ll be out this time every morning now... schedule change. So be prepared to encounter this dashing apparition on a daily basis,” he finds himself grinning, meeting Neils gaze as he looks back over his shoulder.

He looks vaguely amused, perhaps. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, then...” Neil trails off.

“Jason,” he supplies helpfully.

“Jason,” Neil concludes. He looks thoughtful, as if contemplating if he should add to this. “I’m Neil,” he finally says.

“I know,” Jason blurts, blushing automatically and averting his eyes. This earns him a pointed eyebrow raise, Neil turning to face him again. “My track team goes to the exy games a lot...” he tries to dig himself out of the hole he’s dug, “I’ve noticed you on the court,” he grimaces, “you’re very... fast,” the stunning conclusion.

Neil laughs again, the sound a chime in the crisp air, reverberating through Jason’s chest and rattling the air in his lungs. Neil’s smile is warm, tolerant. He obviously can’t sense the discomfort, the embarrassment flooding out in front of him. “Okay, well, Jason from the track team... see you later.” He gives a little wave, and with that Neil Josten is once again a body in motion. Muscles and tendons, joints and bones, slotting back into place and gliding away. Jason can’t help but let his gaze drift from strong shoulders underneath the baggy sweatshirt, to the lean muscles of his legs highlighted by  _ tight _ , tight running gear.

Jason heaves a huge sigh, and glances at his watch (which now needs to be reset for the sake of split mile accuracy). 5:21 am.  _ Way _ too early to be interacting with the star of his bisexual awakening. He grimaces to himself, willing his brain  _ not _ to pick apart every way the conversation could’ve gone 100% better, then heaves another huge sigh. He fixes his stare down the empty sidewalk, letting the pitter patter of receding footfalls fade away behind him. He wills himself to take a deep, centering breath. In, and out. He feels the ground beneath supporting him and pushes off, trusting it to catch him again and again.

————

Jason is plagued by Neil Josten. He cannot get him out of his head. An affliction. If only he wasn’t so goddamn  _ perfect  _ maybe he could get over him. But, ever since that first morning, they’ve been passing each other on their brisk runs. Always a nod, a quick smirk, a little hand twitch, a wave. Jason could admire Neil’s perfect running form... his speed, his strong figure, then use that small interaction to fuel him through his morning. They had even started acknowledging each other around campus. Small nods when Jason caught Neil’s eye at the back of a lecture hall, quick breezes past each other running to and from class. 

One afternoon, Jason absentmindedly stared at the entrance to the athlete’s caf, and there materialized Neil once again. He was flanked on one side by a stoic, slightly shorter blond, all hard edges and dark shadows. On the other, a too-tall blond with strong, tanned limbs pulling at a hot pink hourglass dress. Jason quickly diverted his eyes, feigning conversation as he sighed and angled back to his friend Carla. She looked at him, mirth brimming in her eyes, and glanced towards the entrance.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” she smirked. “So caught up on Josten, you probably barely appreciated how absolutely stunning Reynolds looks today. Like, damn. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to slay the entire student body in that dress. And I would gladly let her,” Carla sighs. “What is it about Josten, anyways?” she wrinkles her nose. “I mean, he is hot, sure, but so short. And that fashion sense... honey.”

Jason's friends begin to taunt him. He’s having an ongoing sexuality crisis, and they taunt him. Carla catches him casting sideways glances across the cafeteria. She feigns swooning onto their nearby teammate and they both laugh. Now, other members of the track team are in on it. The next exy game they attend (because, yes, of course they attend  _ every _ home game), the jeers are relentless.

His teammate Brian, who he kind of barely tolerates, catches him staring at Josten once again as he dances down the court and manages a complex goal. “Jason and Josten sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n- _ oof _ ” Brian cuts off as Jason elbows him in the ribs.

“Will you just shut up, man?” Jason pleas, cheeks burning. It’s too late, though, the heads of his other, less liked teammates swivel over in curiosity. He feels his cheeks, and knows they are beginning to flush a deep shade of crimson.

“Josten, really?” sneers Chad.

Jason slides him a hard look. Despite the burning in his cheeks, he tries to look threatening. He doesn’t think it works.

“He’s the most messed-up member of an already problematic team” Chad continues, unbidden. “Dude, his father has ties with the _ mafia. _ Literally tortured and almost killed him. Probably  _ did _ kill countless others. Look at those hideous scars. Rumor says that’s not even the worst of them.”

Something white hot is bubbling up into Jason’s chest, threatening to boil over. He grits his teeth.

“And Josten isn't much better, anyways. Have you heard the way he’s antagonized reporters? Wouldn’t be surprised if he has blood on his hands, too, with that temper. And I hear he’s friends with the monster, Andrew Minyard. If that doesn’t speak to his character, I don’t know what does”

“Friends? I thought they were fucking” another teammate jeers. Jason thinks his name is Richard, or Dick. Appropriate.

Jason turns to him, aiming for a cutting glare.

Dick continues, “Heh, haven’t you heard? The  _ man _ you’re so hideously drooling over is already being  _ fucked _ by a monster.” His face twists into something more disgusting than before as he gestures crudely. “Not that anyone else would fuck him, anyways.”

Jason feels his insides as they flare up, spilling over in an explosive burst. His arm responds faster than his brain. He finds himself with his fist inches away from Dick’s nose- when Carla beats him to it, a solid slap ringing out as she backhands Dick right across his greasy cheek. Jason aborts his punch, shocked, and gapes at his friend. She had been standing by, silently observing the exchange, but suddenly switches to loud fury.

“Funny how you disgusting creeps feel the need to express your sexual frustrations by shitting on other human beings who’ve gone through more character development in one year than you will in your entire lifetime. Anyone with eyes can tell the exy team has been to hell and back, coming out stronger, more unified. If only y’all could get your  _ heads _ out of your  _ asses  _ and maybe get a PR for once instead of stagnating like you have for the past three seasons, maybe  _ we _ could make it to nationals, too. But no, y’all just have to bring others down, dragging them into your own filth. I don’t know why coach hasn’t cut you from the team yet- oh wait it’s probably because you’re only worth as much as the money as your parents keep throwing at this school to bury your utter inadequacy.”

Jason feels his cheeks stretch, a foolish grin plastered to his lips. He has never been more proud of his best friend. He eyes the attractive flush of fury in her high cheekbones, her cutting emerald green eyes, short-cropped black pixie cut slightly disheveled from where she had been running her fingers through. Fondness pools in his chest, and he stands up, slinging his arm around her shoulder. 

“What she said, assholes,” he smirks at Dick and co., taking in the array of shock plastered to their ugly faces. “Fuck off back to your trust fund and stop trying to pretend at real human emotions. It’s clear you lack the capacity to recognize perseverance in the face of adversity, considering you haven’t had to struggle a single day in your lives. Too bad no man or woman will take a second glance at you, with the ugliness you radiate by your mere existence.”

Carla arches her eyebrow at Jason, takes his hand in hers, and pulls them down in mock-bow. “And thanks for coming to our Ted-Talk,” she concludes, flicking her fingers dismissively and spinning them away from their silent, stunned teammates. 

“Maybe that was a bit harsh,” she giggles into Jason’s shoulder as they stumble up the bleachers in fits of laughter. 

“Nah, they deserve it, I don’t think anyone has ever called them out like that,” Jason huffs glancing over to his friend fondly. “Hey, thanks for the support there… I was so mad, just couldn’t find the words to stick up to them, until you cut in.” 

“Of course!” Carla gestures broadly with her free hand, the other still warmly clutching Jason’s. “Anything for my best friend!” She blushes slightly as she winks, “Someone has to back you up before you get kicked off the team for breaking Dick’s nose, even though he totally deserved it.” 

The warmth is back, fluttering through Jason’s chest as he squeezes Carla’s hand tighter and lets go. “Lets get some snacks, then watch the Foxes absolutely decimate the Jackals!” he proclaims, grinning over his shoulder. “I’ll race you to the snack shack.” 

“Oh, you’re  _ on _ ,” Carla smirks, tipping into her runner's stance and pushing off. 

————

The next time Jason spots Neil, it’s in the caf.  He’s with Andrew Minyard, alone, and Jason happens upon them in line to get today’s stunning main course: dry grilled chicken, bland rice, and over-steamed broccoli. Yum. Before they notice him, he spots the gentle brush of hands, a barely-there touch to the back, fondness in the way they glance at one another. Neil notices Jason as their eyes meet over Andrew’s shoulder. He quickly tries to avert his gaze, like he wasn’t just ogling the private intimacy between them. 

“Oh. Hey.” Neil nods to Jason, causing Andrew to glance back slightly. Jason feels his cheeks warm, unbidden. Inwardly, he curses his naturally pale complexion. He knows he is practically a glowing beacon of embarrassment. 

“Hey, dude” Jason grimaces at his gratuitous use of “dude”, like he is some kinda jock-bro. “So glad we pay thousands a year to get this cardboard… well, actually, I guess we don’t since we are here on athletic scholarship…” he laughs awkwardly, his cheeks heating another ten degrees. “Anyways,” he grabs the tray, using it as an excuse to turn away, quickly, towards his table, “See you tomorrow morning,” he mumbles, fleeing fast. He comes up short when he hears a subtle murmur of German. Which he recognizes. Perks of being raised by your bilingual grandmother. 

“That guy totally has a crush on you,” Minyard states bluntly.

“I- what?” Josten gapes.

“You’re hopeless, Josten. 110%,” Minyard says blandly. Upon a  _ very subtle _ glance, though, Jason can see the slight smile in his otherwise stoic, uncaring appearance. He catches the mirthful tilt of his head, as they angle themselves towards their usual table.

“But-” Josten gets out, glancing back at Jason. They meet eyes. Jason cuts his gaze away, feeling the flush intensify impossibly. Jason hears some incoherent mumblings as they fade away.

————

The next morning, Jason is dreading his run. But the alarm goes off anyways, and he mechanically goes through the motions. And he almost runs into Josten again, because of course he does.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Neil laughs.

“You’re beautiful,” Jason blurts.

“I-” Neil starts, cheeks slightly pinker than the flush of exertion seconds before. But Jason cuts him off.

“Sorry, just let me say this,” he starts.

Neil meets his gaze, kindly. His eyes are like placid pools of water. Jason sighs, files that train of thought away.

Somehow, he launches into a speech that is way too intense for 5am on a Monday. Fuck it, the words tumble out, a geyser of pent-up emotions, “You... helped me realize something I’ve been struggling with for years. My sexuality. You helped me realize that, yes I can be deeply and fully attracted to another man. So... thanks.” Jason trails off, thinks better of it, presses on, “I know we don’t really know each other, but you seem so cool, and smart, and kind, even though you have every reason to be calloused sometimes. And wow, if that isn’t a great look on you, too, when-“ Jason coughs, cutting himself off. “And, God, are you beautiful. Like, truly very attractive. And you don’t even seem to realize it. Like, how do people not realize it? And, hey I know you and Minyard are, like, a thing, at least according to my teammates... So, anyways, point is, I just wanted you to know... For some reason. Ugh, I should probably just stop talking,” Jason finishes abruptly, thoroughly tomato-red and resolutely avoiding Neil’s eyes.

“Um, thanks...” Neil starts, “I’m honestly flattered, you seem like a cool guy as well, and... I’ve been told I can be kind of oblivious, so I’m sorry if I gave you any misleading signals.”

Jason groans internally, “No, you’re good. Really. I could tell you were just being genuinely kind to a goof like me. So... thanks.”

Neil smiles, crinkling up his eyes in that irresistible way. “And you’re right. About me and Andrew. Being ‘a thing.’ If you could call it that.” His smile goes lopsided, and his face is soft in a way Jason hasn’t seen before.

“I’m happy for you. Genuinely. And thanks, again”

Neil beams. “Hey, I don’t think I did anything... but, I’m glad you figured things out for yourself.” 

“Me too,” Jason muses, gazing warmly at Neil. “Hey, I’ll... see you around?”

“Of course,” Neil smiles easily. “Bright and early.” He gives a little wave, nods his head, and jogs away.

Jason feels like he is glowing. Takes a deep breath in, closes his eyes, feels the corners of his lips curl upwards, the soles of his feet planted on the ground, slowly exhales. He is light as a feather as he floats off into the crisp morning air.


End file.
